733t sewz0r's blog

It's 11:45 PM. I am up. My stomach is twisted in knots; my children are asleep. I don't even feel like watching a movie or reading a book - my typical diversions. My husband is out with a friend watching a movie; I am very happy for him to have a night out on his birthday. I have felt tired and beleaguered all day thus you might think I was ready for sleep. Apparently, not to be had.

I get panicky when I can't sleep. At times like this (rare enough, but creeping up on me lately) I feel like I'm the Only Person Awake. I so far have not resorted to medicine (altho' I've tried a few of the homeopathic remedies recommended by hipmamas) but what I wish more than anything else is something strong to knock me out; I know, not helpful in the long-term.

Why is it a Mama does most of the work around the house and sleeps the least?

1. After blogging about my laundry soap-making project my friend came over and dropped off three books to me. I am all fired up about Karen Logan's book (over ten years old) Clean House, Clean Planet. I am planning a shopping spree and making up non-toxic, inexpensive alternatives (castille soap, vinegar, baking soda, club soda). "It is not necessary to buy poisons or to spend a lot of money on commercially marketed natural alternatives." Now I don't know what to do with the last bits of my "typical" (toxic) cleansers.

2. My husband's 30th birthday is today and this weekend we are having a shindig out at my family's old, funky-assed Lake cabin. Mexican potluck! Beatty's chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting! Sun, sun, sun! Lake play! Great neighbors! R&R!

3. Beach trip yesterday to visit my parents where they were camping (in their giant, homemade hippie bus rig that people constantly stop and take pictures of). My parents love my kids so much and go way, way, way out of their way to play with them. I made my dad laugh. This makes me so happy.

4. I'm losing weight. Not sure how or why. I feel good but my pants are literally sliding off me. This feels bad. I can't buy any new clothes until December (my silly Wardrobe Refashion commitment) but sewing my own jeans is tricky, too (I've done it once before and ended up with FAR too large pants!). Still, it feels nice to shrink a bit.

5. Kids are luscious in the morning. Sophie snuck into my bed this early AM. Nels lies on the couch and says, "I need love ['ruv']!" and when I go hold him he says, "Mmmmm, that's good ruv." and puts his face in my boobs.

My friend sent me this article - written in 1990, but I really enjoyed it. My apologies if it's been posted and discussed ad nauseam.

"I think whites are carefully taught not to recognize white privilege, as males are taught not to recognize male privilege. So I have begun in an untutored way to ask what it is like to have white privilege. I have come to see white privilege as an invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day, but about which I was 'meant' to remain oblivious. White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools, and blank checks."

This in particular resonated with me - not as an excuse for any action or inaction on my part, but as a summation of my experience brought up as a middle-class white American before I began to "notice" race relations in any real way:

"My schooling gave me no training in seeing myself as an oppressor, as an unfairly advantaged person, or as a participant in a damaged culture. I was taught to see myself as an individual whose moral state depended on her individual moral will."

Discussion? Play nice!